


Moment 11

by AlphaMercy



Series: Snippets [11]
Category: Borderlands
Genre: M/M, also blood and the usual shit you find in borderlands, theres like lots of death but its not totally specific
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 00:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7552486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaMercy/pseuds/AlphaMercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys isn't having much of a good day, being kiddnapped and all. But it's a thing that happens. So whatever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moment 11

**Author's Note:**

> a prompt on tumblr given by the awesome leenhiddles!

Rhys grunts as his body hits the floor, shoulder aching where his metal arm should be. There’s a throbbing where his head meets the cold, hard-packed sand, and a burning across his cheek as it’s scraped. He lets out a groan and rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.  _ Just another day as Handsome Jack’s PA _ , he thinks, hand tracing patterns on the ground idly.

Rhys hates that he’s dirty, but he can’t really find it in himself to muster the energy to get up and wipe his clothes off. Instead, he rests his head back on the hard ground, and closes his eyes. He’s used to this by now. He’ll sit here in boredom, maybe get beat up a bit by whatever idiot bandits had taken him this time, and sigh over his ruined clothes. Eventually Jack will come rescue him, guns blazing and explosions in the background. He’ll sweep Rhys up, drag him out while lecturing Rhys on “being more careful” and how he “really needed to learn how to fight dammit.”

So that’s how Rhys falls asleep, thinking of Jack and his impending rescue, dreams of warm showers and good food carrying him through his slumber. Until he's so rudely awakened with a kick to the side, breath knocked out of him and fire racing up his chest and side as a sick  _ snap  _ echoes throughout the small room.

“Get th’ fuck up ya Hyperion scum. Ain’t no time to be lollygaggin’ abou’. We got  _ business _ to do.”

Rhys gives a whine and a groan, pushing himself up slowly. His side feels as if a hot poker were running up and down, pressing in on certain spots. Apparently he’s too slow to stand, because the bandit grabs Rhys by his now fucked-up hair. He paws at the hand, body only supported by the man’s arm.

“I  _ said _ , we ain’t got no time. So let’s  _ go _ , scum.”

Rhys eventually gets his feet beneath him and stands, still in pain, tears pricking at his eyes. But he keeps quiet, merely sneering at the other man as he walks out of the room. His arm is wrapped around his side and he limps as he walks, but he does his best to keep his back straight and head high. It’s been a few hours, so — 

_ BOOOOOM! _

Rhys smiles.  _ Ah, cavalry's finally here _ . He continues along the small passage, the frequency and volume of the explosions increasing the closer he gets to the end. There is yelling and gunfire. The bandits glance at each other, muttering and shifting nervously. The commotion reverberates against the tunnel walls, growing louder as the end nears.

There's a sharp prod to Rhys’ back, making him stumble and fall to his knees. His teeth  _ clack _ together in his head and he throws his arm out, wrist bending upon the impact. Pain lances throughout.

“‘EY! ONE O’ YOU ASSHOLES GO GET THEIR ATTENTION AND TELL THOSE FUCKS WE GOT HANDSOME JACKASS’S FUCKBUDDY!”

Rhys snorts quietly, shifting around on his knees to get more comfortable. He’s bored and he wants a goddamn shower. He looks up when one of the bandits run off and sits patiently while men fight and die. He grimaces a bit when a bandit takes a bullet to the face and his blood splatter lands on Rhys. He only just bought these clothes and now they are ruined. Wonderful.

After twenty minutes the apparent leader drags Rhys to his feet and shoves him through the camp-turned-battlefield.

“Can you, uh, maybe try not to yank so hard? This is the only flesh arm I’ve got, and I’d  _ kinda _ like to keep it, ya know?”

The leader grunts and yanks on his arm in response, almost wrenching it out of the socket. Rhys frowns.  _ Rude much? _

Eventually they make it to what seems to be the front of the camp. Or the centre. Then again, direction is all a matter of perspective  —  whatever, he’s where Jack is at any rate, who’s currently laughing as he shoots a bandit in the throat, blood spraying across sharp cheekbones. He kicks the body away as it falls, eyes alighting upon Rhys and his captor, The man doesn’t even get to let a word out as Jack lifts his pistol and fires off three quick round into the man: heart, throat, forehead. Rhys pries the corpse’s hand off, tossing it away as the dead man falls backwards.

“So pumpkin, you look a little worse for wear.”

“Go eat ass, Jack.”

“Only if it’s yours, cupcake.”

Rhys scoffs, delicately stepping over cadavers and rubble as he approaches Jack. “The only way that would happen was if you gave me a foot massage. And maybe bought me dinner. And a new outfit, because I  _ am not _ spending this much money on one again. And it’s  _ your _ fault I got kidnapped in the first place. So I say you owe me.” Rhys shrugs, stopping a few feet from his boss.

Jack stares at him, pistol returning to its holster. “Well kiddo, that’s quite the list. It’s not like I  _ missed you _ or anything,” Jack says, closing the distance between them. He smells like gunpowder and blood, like the dry heat and metal of  _ Helios _ . There’s an undercurrent of cigarettes and cologne and mint. Rhys breaths in deep as Jack closes his arms around Rhys’ bruised body. He smells like home, as cliche as it sounds.

He tips his head back and stares into Jack’s eyes. “So. About that foot massage…”

Jack just grins and kisses Rhys senseless, warmth bubbling up inside him. Fingers curl in hair and half-dried blood smudges as they move in tandem. They saved their world again, the world they had built just for each other, and that strikes harder than any bandit’s bullet.

**Author's Note:**

> alrighty kids. sop a few things  
> 1\. im nineteen now! yaaaay!  
> 2\. im so so so sorry for not updating in almost a month, inspiration has been hard to find and depression has been hitting me a little hard., im hoping to update some of my other stuff soon, but it might take me a bit of time, please be patient with me?  
> 3\. yall are fucking great i hope you guys have a good weekend!


End file.
